Even Morrigan?
by LastbutnotAlise
Summary: The Warden, now Queen of Ferelden, shares an inside joke with Alistair and contemplates its deeper meaning, with Alistair comforting her over the loss of her friend.


_Post-coronation: King Alistair and Queen Warden/Hero of Ferelden. Warden was friends with Morrigan._

It had been several months now. Ferelden and its people were safe once more (for the time being), and the sudden hush of all the Blight-related news was more than welcome to be kept. No one had said a word, not extending past 'thank you's and passing hospitalities.

It was due to the fact that, the Hero of Ferelden, Queen and brave soul of the people, had succeeded against the Blight. Her memory would live on in history, and by her side would be mentioned her former Grey Warden companion - and now husband -, the King of Ferelden, Alistair Theirin.

A brave man for whom she owed a lot, including this happiness they shared now.

The same could be said in return. If she hadn't been there for him who knows what state Ferelden would be in…

A terrifying thought.

Despite the loss faced throughout the journey, be it loss of family, friends, workers or strangers, the Hero of Ferelden had kept one very important part of her life alive: her love.

A cliche statement, but a true one.

Without Alistair here beside her now she would truly have lost her only remaining hope. Instead though, she was now his partner and would remain such until the day they passed. It was a good ending for them after all, ruling side by side and making happiness instead of terror.

Night approaching, her current place was in their bedroom (made a change from a tent), which she had just entered alone. Alistair should be up soon, she reckoned, and a small sigh slipped out from her lips. A busy day, no surprise, organising new laws and regulations for trade and markets outside of Denerim's immediate areas. Very entertaining.

Having been cooped up all day, she really wished for some fresh air. She took a stand by the open window, reaching up on her tip-toes carefully to push it open slightly further out. It was getting colder now, that chilling, welcome breeze making the hair on her stand up on end as it snaked down her cheek and up her arms, meeting in a pool of icy breath at her chest and forcing her to fill her lungs with even more of its brethren as she inhaled sharply.

A funny feeling. Hardly too noticeable, just what was normal. To feel cold, to breathe, to react to changes of the temperature.

And yet… It was always the little things that happened that could be described in the most stunning ways. Simplicities no one else paid attention to. She did. She was used to having a lot on her mind, and now that there were less events to worry about (aside from mildly-stressful royal duties), she found her brain going a mile a minute with nothing to pay attention to. So it occupied her with passing thoughts of minute details to make up for it. Poetic, almost. Annoying, maybe.

Lost in her own web of those very thoughts now, what she failed to notice was the shadow slinking just outside the doorway, nor did she listen out to how a person crept inside just past the bed, or even how they extended their arms out, ready to grab her and -!

To her surprise, she was being lifted up, suddenly! Truly a bird in the night, almost a ride on a griffon, but -

"Gotcha~"

Not quite a griffon, but an over-glorified eagle maybe…

A shocked fragment of a gasp escaped her lips alongside a laugh, and instantly she smiled: "'Swooping ' down on innocents is bad, don't you know. Have some manners. " her tone mocking a serious reprimand, the perpetrator only laughed.

"Since when do you mind 'swooping?''

"Since now, let go!" But the command was fake, tone laced with a pitiful whinge.

"Mm, I think I'll hold onto you for a while longer." The perpetrator hummed, arms tightening in a gentle squeeze to elicit (successfully) a small squeal from the Queen, followed by her whine of 'nooo~'.

Who would be as so cruel as to do this to her? None other than Alistair, of course. Hard not to recognise the playful nature and protective embrace of the young man. Truly evil.

Even if they couldn't see the each other's expression, the happiness was evident. They shared this moment now with no regrets. No time limits. No impending doom. Nothing.

An inside joke, a beautiful and unique thing that couldn't ever be replaced. Once again, a simple thing - but its implications and abilities were something to be admired. How could one word change the mood completely like that?

…

But perhaps not changing it to something fun for long. The deeper into this that she thought, the more meaning she uncovered.

Jokes had to start somewhere, and this one held with it so much past that it'd require going right back to the start of the whole adventure during the Blight to explain it.

The name that held the final understanding of this one word was to be forgotten and erased from memory for fear of creating unwanted sympathies and worries towards, already clearly established, futures and situations.

Morrigan wouldn't have wanted a second thought about it again, and yet the Hero fell silent, only able to think of her.

Noticing this sudden silence, and breaking it too, her lover asked: "What, is it really that bad?" Setting her down gently on her feet once again, approaching from the side this time and slipping his arm around her waist with instinctive ease. A place fit for a King, no doubt.

Her lips pursed and her gaze flickered over to Alistair, resting there for a few seconds as her eyes scanned his expression; concerned frown, knotted brows, intent look, yet his eyes were still alive with that hopeful, happy spark. They always had that. Even in their worst moments, the darkest times, he always managed to at least look like there was a chance of saving it all.

He wasn't wrong either.

She breathed deep once again, hand on his on her waist and, leaning against his frame gently, she spoke slowly:

"No...Well, yes, but no. "

She heard a quiet chuckle from beside her-

"Are you purposefully trying to confuse me? "

-to which she returned a playful snip:

"You do that by yourself, most days. "

"Ha ha, hilarious -" Alistair rolled his eyes up momentarily, deftly leaning over to kiss her temple gently, "but really, what's wrong?"

Aaand so he persisted.

A kind gesture, of course, but it wasn't something she thought she wanted to describe. There was nothing either of them could do about her being gone, and Alistair (as much as he cared) had no such attachment.

The issue dug deep, but at the core it was that, being the one Morrigan called a 'friend', the ONLY one to bear that title, was a powerful thing.

What could she say, she missed this 'Witch of the Wilds' and wondered how she was doing, simply put. Now if only feelings could arrange themselves as easily as words, this whole ordeal wouldn't be necessary.

"Just wound up in my thoughts a little, it's nothing," she reassured, turning herself towards Alistair more and opening her arms to wrap firmly around his torso, embracing him in a tight hug that was returned within seconds, the feeling of his own arms tensing warmly around her frame. She always felt safe when he did that. He was her shield.

"Is it something I can help with?" Alistair's thumbs began their gentle caressing motions into her sides, meant to calm her down, ease her up to the idea of opening up. He wouldn't push, but it worried him whenever she had something on her mind that hurt her - even if it was the tiniest thing. He cared so very much. It was hard to ignore the little nagging feelings - and he knew they could eat you up if you weren't careful.

The Queen began to shake her head, though paused, and then tilted her chin up to look her lover in the eye. He raised his brows slightly as he shot her a kind smile, giving her a little squeeze once more and laughing again once her expression turned to a pout.

"Don't you become grumpy because of this, I want to go to bed with you not kicking me under the covers. " He cooed, wearing a pout of his own now to mirror her. She clicked her tongue.

"You'll be sleeping with the Mabari if you don't like it."

Alistair stuck his bottom lip out more, brows creasing and he whined a "You can't kick the King of Ferelden out of his own bedroom-"

Interrupted by an "I can," and she leaned up "and will." kissing his chin.

Alistair's hold on her only tightened, and he shook his head with a very slight huff under his breath "No...You're changing the subject now, what's on your mind?" But she wasn't having it, playfully pinching at his sides - to which he flinched slightly but frowned, look turning much more serious.

"YOU'RE changing the subject to keep your place here." she murmured with an undertone of laughter, but Alistair didn't take the bait. They could go back and forth like this and let it become a game, and cuddles maybe...But what would that solve? No, she was hiding her thoughts now, and that didn't ease his worries.

"Please." he pleaded, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to her forehead and then kneeling slightly to look at her directly in the eye, his own narrowed with creased brows, worried and a little afraid, even. "You can kick me out - but tell me what's bothering you first. I won't leave until you do." They both knew she wouldn't really, but this couldn't be all serious; it'd get painful then.

The Queen's smile began to falter at his expression, as well as her arms locked around Alistair began to loosen. He kept her propped up though, and gently led them both to take a seat on the bed behind them.

It was true, she was avoiding it a little. But she didn't even know where to start exactly. How do you explain do your husband that you miss someone he dislikes a whole ton and wish you could see her again and get things back to how they were previously without sounding either desperate or foolish.

But, as soon as those thoughts even as much as appeared, they were dismissed.

Alistair wasn't some ordinary person, man, woman, who misunderstood such feelings. Neither was he selfish, or rude, or even careless. He was asking because he DID care, and, if she knew him well, he'd try his best to make it better. Morrigan was likely never going to be seen again, and to stay true to her wishes, neither of them should attempt to seek her out again either…

Finally, after some seconds of deliberation and attempts to get her thoughts together, the Queen spoke:

"Do you miss some of our companions?" She asked simply, tilting her head up and watching Alistair's expressions and body-language for the answer. His eyes lit up slightly more in surprise, but he was quick to nod, and sincere in his words.

"Of course. I didn't understand all of them, but they were great fun."

"What about having it all back?"

"What, like we were all together again?"

She nodded.  
"Well, as long as we'd have no more camping around in tents and running around killing Blight-spawn as part of the package, I don't see why it wouldn't be nice." his, albeit almost nervous, laugh made her heart skip a beat, encouraging her to jump that last hurdle-

"Even Morrigan?"

Alistair opened his mouth and then closed it again, taking a second of pause there. Was this where this was leading..? His mind began to race a little with all potentials where she could go from here. This wasn't going to be about their night together, was it? Because he severely disliked that subject, to say the least. Even thinking about it made him feel odd.

"I...Guess even her, yes. Why, you haven't heard-?"

She was quick to shake her head, and her look fell slightly, heavy sigh accompanying it as she shifted her weight around and brought her legs to be crossed over on the bed, fiddling with the hem of Alistair's shirt.

"No, but, I want to. We've had some contact with everyone else, at least once, but she's really off and disappeared." It wasn't a time to get selfish, especially not after what Morrigan had done for them, but she couldn't help but feel obliged to know at least some details about her wellbeing. To completely cut off, after all they went through? It almost seemed like a joke. With Morrigan though, she knew it wasn't. Accepting it was another thing entirely to understanding it, however.

And she didn't think she'd ever understand.

Alistair's chest tightened at hearing his sweetheart talking this way. So worried, and with such good intentions, she didn't deserve this sort of worry plaguing her thoughts-

Before he could say anything to reassure her, his lover continued her thought, trying to just...Get it over with, evidently.

"Do you think she knows..?" She began softly, swallowing a lump forming in her throat and licking her drying lips before clearing her throat and repeating herself more coherently:

"Do you think she knows that I - we- still care? That we're still friends, and she's still welcome?.." her voice trailed off then, and Alistair was quick to pull her into his embrace once again in that night. He almost scooped her up, carefully shifting them both so she sat in his lap and he cradled her legs and back in the bends of his arms, fingers brushing her sides.

"She knows." Alistair's soothing tone pressed warmth and reassurance into her heart and soul, lips trailing a line of soft and slow kisses down her jawline and neck as he pulled her closer still. There was a moment of pure silence, which even the wind seemed to respect, before he, with slight sark, added:

"She's Morrigan, daughter of THE Witch of the Wilds, of course she knows."

One of his hands found her's and he linked their fingers together, brows still knotted but his cheeks were alive with a flush, mouth formed into, arguably, his most beautiful expression he could wear; loving. A smile that told a thousand words of his care, respect and adoration for the one he cradled in his arms. Seeing that was enough to say that he understood and wanted nothing more than to improve her life, even if it was making her laugh again or speaking of Morrigan with her. He wanted to share everything she had, thoughts absolutely included.

And, seeing such an expression, seeing his reactions and hearing his words, his Queen knew this was absolutely perfect. Her other half, a person she could be completely open with.

Seems Alistair wasn't quite done though, smile turning to a grin as he laughed aloud suddenly: "Maker if she finds us now though, what will she think? Tell us to stop worrying about her, that she doesn't need it. Though, maybe not in those words...I should really work on my impression of her for you, shouldn't I?" He tried to cheer his lover up with this lighter tone (and a little peck on her nose too~), and it worked, her little laugh shaking her body and a smile was starting to form on her lips again. The weight seemed to have been lifted, almost physically too.

It was a wonder what this man could do.

"You really should. Perfect it, and then I won't have to kick you out of here tonight." A dare, almost, passed to him with raised brows and greeted by an upset groan.

Normality returned, the concerns seemed to already have passed right over her. Alistair shared the burden, he carried her and her feelings and it made things a lot easier to bear. She trusted him and she trusted his words, and if he said Morrigan knew...Well, then she knew. Perhaps one day they'd pass her by again, but until then, she'd just be memories and inside jokes stored between the rulers of Ferelden.

Swooping and soaring, wings cutting wispy clouds, closing up to allow her to land silently on the window sill; the Raven knows it too. Beady eyes examine the two figures, hearing their hushed mumbles, she knows.

She won't forget, not for a long time.


End file.
